


Defining "Food"

by horatiofrog



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:26:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horatiofrog/pseuds/horatiofrog
Summary: Two teenagers.  One giant grocery store.  What could possibly go wrong?





	Defining "Food"

“Why are we here again?”

Clay Jensen sighed.  “I believe Mom’s exact words were:  _if you two are going to complain about dinner, then make some yourself!_ ” He rolled his eyes.  “I knew I shouldn’t have said that about her meatloaf.”

“It is pretty bad, Clay.”  Justin Foley clapped a hand on his adoptive brother’s shoulder in solidarity.

“And _that’s_ saying something, considering I’m pretty sure you’d eat fresh roadkill.”

“Fuck you.”  A grin flashed against the taller boy’s face.  “Plus I think Lainie said something about having to work overtime this week?”

“Yeah.  She and Dennis have like, four new cases.  Working for a start-up sucks, I guess?”

“Still, your dad…?”

“Last time Mom sent Dad to buy groceries…let’s just say the food got pretty interesting.”  Clay’s mind wandered to the night he stared a tiny dead octopus in the eyes, courtesy of his fork. 

“Your dad is a fucking _awesome_ cook.”

“Dad likes to try a lot of things.  Dead octopus, for one.”

“Okay.  So.  Is there a list?”

“Amazingly, no.  Weren’t you listening this morning?  I mean, you were sitting right next to me at the table.” Clay stared at Justin, awaiting an answer.

“…there were pancakes?”

“Yeah, and?”

“…there was whipped cream?”

Clay rolled his eyes.  “Stop talking.  Now.”

* * *

 

“Justin, we can’t eat that.”

Justin looked at the frozen pizza that was in his hand.  “Yes, we can.  Done it hundreds of times.”

“Y’know, we could get _actual_ ingredients and _make_ a pizza…”

“This is easier.”

Clay snatched the item from his hand.  “At least get the meat supreme if you’re going to kill us with processed crap.  Jesus.”

“Pizza is a food group, Jensen.”

“Funny, I don’t remember that one being on the pyramid.”

“Um, isn’t it a plate thing now?”

Justin fought the urge to snicker as Clay rolled his eyes again.  “Shut up.”  He threw the pizza in the cart. 

The two wandered down the frozen food section a few feet before Clay quickly snatched up something out of the freezer.  “Really, Jensen?  Death by Chocolate ice cream?”

Clay pointed at the other parcel in their possession.  “Frozen pizza.”

“Hey, I’m not bitching.  But we need brownies and chocolate syrup for sundaes.”

The conspiratorial grins were hard to contain, and the requested items made it to the bottom of the cart.

* * *

 

“We need milk.”

“Got it.”

Clay looked around.  “Where?”

“Um…under the cereal.”

“Which box?”

Justin shrugged.  “The one that _doesn’t_ have bran flakes in it?”

“Fair point.”

* * *

 

“Oh, shit, Clay, hide!”

“The fuck…?”

“Take a look at who’s in the soup aisle.”

Sighing, Clay carefully peered around the bags of potato chips to see the face of Bryce Walker picking out cans of soup.  He quickly turned to his brother.  “The _hell_ is _he_ doing here?”

“Walking his dog, Jensen – the fuck do you think?”

“Um, A) I don’t think he _has_ a dog; B) I’m pretty sure it’d kill itself if it has to spend more than five minutes with the likes of someone like Bryce Walker, and C) the question still stands – what the _hell_ is he doing in a Walplex?  I mean, they don’t have rich food here!”

Justin laughed so hard no actual sound escaped his throat.  Clay shoved his hand against the younger boy’s mouth as he quickly scanned for any sight of Bryce.  Thankfully, their enemy had moved on from the soup.  “The fuck is _wrong_ with you?”

Long, skinny fingers pointed at Clay, then at Justin himself.  “Me?” Justin gasped.  “Come on, Jensen…’rich food?’ Really?”

“There’s a Whole Foods, like, half a mile from his place!  He can _afford_ to spend ten dollars for a banana!  Why the hell is he coming to _my_ store?”

“…because they don’t sell Campbell’s soup there?”

The fit of giggles could be heard for three aisles.

* * *

 

“We need deli chicken.”

“We do not.”

“Dude, it’s like, perfect food.  _And_ you can get sauce on it.”

“You like the chicken Dad makes, with sauce.”

“Can’t get Matt’s chicken if he’s got meetings all week, Clay.”

“…fuck.  Two pounds okay?”

* * *

 

“Clay, we need chocolate chip cookies.”

“We got brownies.”

“For sundaes.  Cookies are for breakfast.”

Clay goggled.  “How the _hell_ are you even _alive_?”

Justin shrugged.  “Mom wasn’t picky about what I ate.  Food’s food.”

Clay really couldn’t argue.  He did, however, toss in lettuce and some mushrooms for salad.

* * *

 

“How the fuck can you eat _that_?”

Clay tossed in the package of Everything-flavored pretzel chips.  “With a smile.”

* * *

 

“Hey, we need laundry soap.”

“We do?”

Justin sighed.  “Just because _you_ don’t wash _your_ clothes…”

“Says the guy who wouldn’t take a shower the first night he stayed in my room.”

“…shut up.”  A gallon of Tide hit the cart.  Justin grabbed paper plates and a box of dryer sheets for good measure.

“Paper plates?” Clay smirked.

“You wanna do dishes?  I mean, I _will,_ but even _I’d_ like a night off.”

Clay’s smirk vanished. “Get the big ones.  They’re buy one, get one free.”

* * *

 

“Um, Clay?”

“What now, Justin?”

Justin looked at the overfilled cart before them.  “How are we gonna pay for all this?”  He pulled out his wallet.  “I mean, I have a twenty, but…”

“Well, I’ve got a twenty too, but then there’s _this_.” A small plastic card flicked up into Clay’s hand.  “Mom gave it to me this morning.  Said we needed to buy ‘actual food’ with it, and not just crap.”

Both boys looked at the contents of their cart.  “Shit,” Justin said.  “Looks like actual food to me.”

“Remind me again,” Clay countered.  “Where was the last place you went grocery shopping?”  He smiled at Justin, trying to lend a little levity to the situation.  “Come on.  We’ll think of something.”

* * *

 

“Morning, boys.”

“Morning, Mom.”  Clay reached for a coffee cup.  The caffeine called out to him like a siren song.

“Morning, Lanie.”  Justin reached for a waffle.  “Where’s Matt?”

“He had an early meeting,” Lainie Jensen replied, taking a sip of her tea.  “So,” she said, eyeing up both of her sons.  “I see you did the shopping yesterday.”

Both boys froze, as though trapped by car headlights.  “Um, yeah,” Clay choked out. 

“Do either of you remember what I asked you to get?”

Justin shrugged.  “Clay said something about food?  Which, we did get.”

“Mm-hmm.”  Another sip of tea.  “You both do remember something about there needing to be food you can cook, right?”

“And all of it needs cooking,” Clay replied.

“Like the three gallons of ice cream in the freezer?  Or the cookies?  Or…”

Clay and Justin both tossed glances at each other.  They’d never be allowed to grocery shop again.


End file.
